Any title ideas, guys? This one just doesn't feel right. So this is my newest - don't worry, I'm still working on the others, I just needed a break - and I hope you like it. Don't hold back. It's rough.
Chapter One
T.J. was just so… clueless. He acted the same as ever on our date, ordering my popcorn with extra butter for me, holding my hand during the movie, kissing my cheek good night. It was always that way. He was polite, considerate, and loyal.
Which was why I had to break up with him.
I didn’t need another dog; I already had Buddy. What I had with T.J., it just wasn’t enough. As I looked at him, sitting there so calmly, I knew that a lot of the girls at school would think I was crazy. He was beautiful, I’d give him that. Star of the hockey team, ongoing church attendance, straight-A’s. Maybe I was crazy. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. I hated how I felt when I was with T.J. Like I couldn’t crack a joke about anything, couldn’t yell at the couple whispering two seats in front of us. I had to be perfect, prim, and right.
“Is something wrong?” T.J. asked me, those brown eyes so serious and worried. Worried about me. As if I was the one who was about to get dumped.
I looked away, out the window at the gently falling snow. It was a strange night for me. Before I moved here, I’d never seen snow. Never felt a cold such as this.
“Kate?”
“I have something to say,” I said firmly, turning back to face him. Already, I’d changed from being with him. Never before had I been nervous to speak my mind.
He smiled his sweet smile—a rare treat—and touched my hand. “What is it? Is everything okay with your Dad?”
He was making this hard. “No, he’s fine.” I brushed a long hair out of my face impatiently. “Listen, I want to talk about us.”
That smile was still there. “Us? What about us?” T.J. reached over and actually clasped my hand so that our fingers were laced together. He never did that. Did he sense something? I was hyper-aware of how warm his palm was, how familiar the bends and angles of those fingers were to me. Four months. I’d given this four months. I couldn’t do it anymore.
“I can’t do it anymore.”
There. I did it. I said the one thing that had been rolling around in my head for weeks. For the first and last time, I’d finally told T.J. what I was really thinking.
His eyebrows rose. He wasn’t confused—he was too quick for that—but I knew T.J. He was used to winning, to getting what he wanted, and he wouldn’t let this go easily. “What do you mean?” he asked. Now I found his calm annoying. Of course I hadn’t been hoping for a passionate reaction, but I’d wanted something other than this collected, perfect boy.
My eyes traced the planes of his face. His tanned skin, the layers of his golden hair. All the hockey boys had longer hair. But he wasn’t like those other hockey boys. I knew this.
And he was still waiting for an answer. I wasn’t going to feed him the bullshit that was racing through my mind. He deserved more than that. It’s not you, it’s me. I just need to focus on my dad right now. I’m still recovering from my last relationship. I don’t have time for a boyfriend.
“The truth?” I smiled faintly and looked at the snow again. “I’m not the right girl for you.”
“Of course you are.” The response was instant. He didn’t even have to think about it before the words were out. He squeezed my hand tighter. “I chose you, didn’t I?”
As if I’d won the lottery or something. “Yeah, you did.” I pulled my hand away. “And now I’m choosing this.”
T.J. pursed his lips, the first sign that this was unsettling for him. But he didn’t ask anymore questions or get mad. No, because here was the story again.
“On your first day here, at the school, I didn’t see you right away. You were keeping to yourself, walking so quickly through the halls that no one really had a chance to talk to you. Every time someone tried to be friendly you’d just smile, nod, and move away. Even when Jack introduced himself.” Jack was possibly more beautiful than T.J. himself, and apparently I’d been the first girl to turn him down.
“T.J., please—”
I was slightly shocked when he interrupted me. “You were sitting in the back of the class, writing notes down,” he went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “I just noticed that, because none of the other girls really care about that kind of thing. I faced the front again, and forgot about it, until Mrs. Grant asked us, ‘What is the meaning of love?’”
A groan tried to claw its way out of me, but I didn’t allow it to leave, and I didn’t stop him. There was no stopping him unless I got out of the car, and I didn’t want to end this badly. So I suffered.
But now T.J. waited. He just sat there, gazing at me. I knew what he wanted. “Come on,” he murmured when I refused to say it.
It’s the least I can do for him. I swallowed the stubborn feeling clogging my throat. “Love,” I sighed, reliving that day. “Love is when you sit by the hospital bed for hours, listening to your father’s heart beating slowly, every second afraid that it wouldn’t beat again. Love is when you leave your home and your friends and your life behind for someone else’s good. Love is when you forget your own wants and feelings. Love is endurance, patience, and hope. And even when that hope is gone and you keep hoping, that’s love, too.”
“You wouldn’t look at anyone while you were saying it,” T.J. said. He brushed away that annoying hair that kept falling over my left eye. “But then… you looked up at me.”
Why was he doing this to me? Did he have to be so damn perfect? Just let me dump you and get out of this car, I wanted to snap at him.
“Yes, and that was the moment when you knew I was the one for you. Because the pain of yesterday was in my eyes and the hope of tomorrow in my voice.” I pulled away with a jerk, frowning.
“You really should write, you know,” he murmured with a grin. “But no, none of that. It was the tears.”
“Oh, God, T.J.”
“No, listen. You don’t believe me, but it’s true. I’ve never felt like that before. I’ve been going to school with the girls in this town all of my life, and I’ve dated some. New girls came to town, and I tried having relationships with some of them, too.”
“You’re making yourself sound like a player, you know.”
“But not one single girl has every made me feel the way you do. When you open your front door and smile up at me, I swear my hands sweat every time. When you say my name, it makes me so happy, Kate, you have no idea. And do you remember that one time you told me I had food in my teeth?”
Now I did groan, a frustrated sound. “You’re making that important now, too?”
“No one else was ever themselves enough with me to tell me the truth. You were the first one to look me right in the eye, and you didn’t have a hidden agenda. You didn’t want to be popular, you didn’t even want to fit in. You’re amazing, and I---”
“T.J. Stop.”
He did, but I could tell that nothing I could say would change anything. “I may be different than the others, but no matter what you think, I’m not myself around you. I hated the parties you brought me to, I hate what all your friends talk about. When I laugh along with their jokes, it’s not real. I want a boyfriend that will touch me. A boyfriend that I can just stay at home with, watch movies with and pig out with, as great as that sounds. I want to talk about everything. Me and you… we’re just not right, T.J. no matter what you believe.”
He leaned back when I was done, and silence filled the car. I tried to guess what he would say next, but for once, I couldn’t.
“I think…” he began slowly, clearly processing it all. “That I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Oh, great. “T.J., we’re done.”
He looked at me, his dark eyes unfathomable. “I know. And I accept that… for now. I’ll give you the time and space that you need. But I’m going to wait, okay? When you need me, when you want me again, I’ll be nearby. All right?”
Perfect until the end. But this ending was better than the horrible scenes I’d imagined. “Good night, T.J.,” I said, opening the door. Cold air rushed in, sending shivers down my spine, and I clutched my coat tighter around me. I didn’t know what else to say, so I didn’t say anything. As always, T.J. watched me until I unlocked the door and was safe inside. Then, with a last honk and a wave, he was gone.
Alone. Just the way I wanted it. I unwound my scarf from around my neck, turning up the thermometer beside the door. As I moved to the kitchen, I refused to let myself think about T.J., our date, or the break-up. What had only been a few-minute conversation with him now felt like hours, and I was exhausted.
The answering machine glowed red. It happened every time, but when I saw it, my heart pounded so hard it seemed like it would pound right out of my chest. But as always, I forced myself forward and pressed ENTER.
“Two new messages,” the machine drone. “First message. Sent today, at nine forty-six p.m.”
“Hi, honey,” my dad said, the sound of his voice as familiar to me as my own reflection. “Hope your date with T.J. was fun. I’m excited to see you tomorrow. Oh, I had Tina make you some supper; I think she left it in the fridge. I don’t want you eating so much junk food. Apparently it’s bad for you. So heat it up, and eat it in front of the TV or something. Relax. I know how busy you’ve been lately. I love you, and I’ll see you soon.”
I glanced at the clock. It was past eleven. The nurses discouraged calls after ten. Sighing, I went to the fridge to discover what kind of food our housekeeper had made.
“Next message. Sent today, at ten eleven p.m.”
“Kate, honey, I haven’t heard from you in two weeks. I know I forgot to call on Thanksgiving, and I’m sorry, but there was just this thing I had… well, you know how it is, don’t you?”
“Yeah, you were probably busy sucking on that boyfriend twelve years younger than you,” I muttered, taking out a Tupperware with some meatloaf in it. “Couldn’t take the time to call your real family.”
“Anyway, how’s your dad? Is he still doing the chemo? I know you mentioned something about it when we last talked. Katie, I miss you. Could you please just get a hold of me? I work nights, so I’m usually home during the day, as you know. Call me anytime then. I love you. Hopefully talk to you soon. Night.”
I hated being called Katie. I put a plate laden with food in the microwave and listened to it hum. As my mother hung up, a male laugh sounded in the background. And even though I should have been used to it, she still pissed me off. I tried, for Dad, but if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have anything to do with her.
The microwave dinged, and I took my plate out. The house groaned and creaked from the strong winds outside. It was an old place; Dad bought it pretty much for me, since we both knew when we moved here that he wouldn’t be around much. He’d tried to talk me into staying in California, but I hadn’t inherited my own stubborn streak from Mom’s side.
“Buddy!” I called, leaving the kitchen. My chocolate lab didn’t appear. I headed for the den with my hot plate in hand. My homework nudged at my conscience, but for now, I ignored it.
Buddy was waiting for me on the couch. Her tail wagged as soon as she saw me, and I smiled. “What if I don’t give you any?” I challenged her, taunting her with the smell of meat. I plopped down beside my dog and gave her a chunk of it. It was our routine, and she knew I was a sucker for her big brown eyes.
An image of T.J.’s brown eyes flashed for a second. I shook it off and took a bite of my food. But for some reason, it didn’t taste as good as I’d thought it would. I turned on the TV and turned it to a sitcom. Buddy was pressed against my leg, Dad was fine and I was going to see him tomorrow, and I’d finally ended things with T.J.
So why did I feel as if I wanted to cry?
